Your Kiss Might Kill Me
by cinderalex
Summary: Ron and Hermione reunite after a summer of anticipation. Will it ever end? (Follow-up to 'A Nap and a Goodbye,' but it can also stand alone[Part 2 up]
1. Breathe In For Luck

Author's Note: This story goes after 'A Nap and a Goodbye,' but you don't really need to read it first. The song is 'Hands Down' by Dashboard Confessional.

_**Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep, this air is blessed, you share with me**_

Looking into the mirror, Ron ran a comb through his hair. All summer he'd been planning. He'd didn't think he could wait another day. But that was okay because he wouldn't have to. What an idiot he'd been for not acting sooner.

Ginny walked into the room. "Is that a comb in your hand? Boy, you must either have an extreme case of cabin fever or important plans for today."

Ron flushed until his neck was as red as his hair. "Bugger off. Aren't you supposed to be conducting a test on some of Fred and George's new products?"

"Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to be a test subject for fever fudge, but I can see that you're otherwise occupied primping." Giggling she walked out of the room, she left him redder than ever, scowling at the comb.

Ron began to rehearse what he planned to say. Every time he practiced the words came out different, each successively more pathetic as the one before. Oh well, what he said didn't really matter; he needed to make the right moves.

Not five minutes after Ginny left his room, he heard, "ICKLE RONNYKINS! IF YOU DON'T GET DOWN HERE IN THE NEXT FIVE SECONDS YOU'LL NEVER SEE YOUR FRIEND AGAIN!"

Bounding down the stairs, Ron bellowed, "And why the hell would that be George?"

"'Cause sometime in the recent past your bookworm got bloody hot."

"Are you saying I was ugly before?"

Ron's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Hermione's voice and then another at the sound of her soft feminine laughter in reply to Fred's "Yup."

Entering the kitchen, Ron realized George was right. Hermione looked gorgeous. Not that she hadn't always looked adorable. Adorable he could handle, gorgeous he wasn't so sure about. As he took in Hermione, clad in shorts and a tank top that showed off her lovely curves, he tightened all over. Now was his chance, the moment he'd been waiting for all summer. George said something. Maybe it was Fred. It didn't matter. As Hermione's laughter rippled through him all his thoughts centered around her.

"Don't you want to give Hermione something?" Ginny appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"OOOOOOOO Ickle Ronnykins! What?"

He glanced down avoiding Hermione's curious gaze. He found himself staring at a creamy expanse of feminine leg. When had her legs gotten so long? "I was just ermmmm wondering if ermmmmmm you." He pictured them wrapped around him, long and smooth, like silk. " if you shave your legs."

Fred, George and Ginny burst into laughter. Hermione blushed, but not as deeply as Ron. Shooting an embarrassed glare at the laughing trio, Hermione murmured, "Actually I wax them."

Not quite looking at any of them, Ron stammered, "Of of course."

As began to ascend the stairs Hermione called out, "Hey wait, there was something I wanted to ask you also." Without waiting for Ron to reply, she continued, "Why are you holding a comb?" Pretending not to hear her, Ron finished his climb and ran into his room wishing he had taken Ginny up on her offer of fever fudge.

_**This night is wild, so calm and dull, these hearts they race from self-control**_

Ron walked in the kitchen, sweaty from an afternoon of quidditch, to see Hermione and Ginny deep in conversation. His mum was standing at the counter, her back to the chatting girls, preparing for dinner. Hermione was talking excitedly, her eyes glowing as Ginny nodded frowning. "You mean, they'll be giving MORE homework this year?" the younger girl asked incredulously.

Hermione laughed. Ron shivered. "Of course. But it's really not that bad. I mean, in charms you'll be learning a whole bunch of really cool stuff like..."

"Hermione, not everyone shares your passion for learning trillions of spells!" George said, as entered the room behind Ron, Fred close on his tail.

Hermione gave George an icy stare and then caught Ron's gaze. "Did you have fun playing Quidditch?" She sounded disapproving. Not sure what he'd done wrong, Ron shrugged and moved to sit down next to her. She stopped him, rising.

"Actually I was just going to fetch my things and begin unpacking. Do you want to come help me?" It was not a question, that much Ron understood. He nodded, "Yeah, it'll give us a chance to catch up. Ginny, you should come help us. You know, show her where she can put her things in your room."

"Actually, Ginny, I think we can manage. Ron and I have some private things to discuss." At that, Ginny snorted, earning her what Ron hoped was his most malevolent glare.

Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke as they retrieved her bags and dragged them to Ginny's room.

Hermione closed the door, set her luggage on far bed, and began to take out her belongings. "I had a very nice chat with your mother and sister. I assume you and your brothers had a nice time playing outside?" Another question Ron was certain wasn't a question. Instead, he commented, "Sounds like you were about to give Ginny another run through of what she'll be learning this year. I thought you did that in the last three owls you sent. She showed me the recommended reading list you sent her."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you. Or rather be with you."

He cut in, not sure he liked the way her tone was rising, "Yeah, I've missed you a lot this..."

Hermione sent him a withering glance, and continued as if he hadn't opened his mouth, "But you ran off as soon as I got here. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were avoiding me. Or perhaps being alone with me."

"That's not true." He knew his statement lacked conviction. He had been avoiding spending time with her alone. Not because he didn't want to be with her. He did. Very much. Too much. She turned back to her unpacking.

Her voice was soft, hurt almost, when she spoke, "It's just that we've been apart all summer and the moment I arrive you scuttle away like I'm the last person you want to see." She was silent, but Ron could tell she wanted to say more. He was about to reassure her, tell her how she looked so tanned and sophisticated, so bloody beautiful that he wasn't sure what to say or do. He wanted to kiss her. But before he could say any of that, she began again in that sweet, injured tone.

"We were supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend, right? It's been almost three months now, since that night?" Ron nodded.

_**Your legs are smooth, as they graze mine, we're doing fine, we're doing nothing at all**_

Ron hoped she wasn't going to cry. He turned her to face him. She looked tired, like she'd had long day.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I thought about you all day."

"You're nervous." She whispered this, stepping closer. He glanced down at her lips. They parted temptingly.

"Why would I be nervous?" He choked and looked away. Laughing helplessly, she turned back to the bed.

"You're nervous. And pathetic."

"I don't know what you're going on about." Suddenly, he really wanted to touch her. Her tank top left the back of her shoulders bare. He wondered if they felt as smooth as they looked. "Would you like a back rub?"

"Sure. Let me put up my hair." She pulled a hair band off her wrist, and in a few swift movements all her hair was on top of her head, exposing the delicate curve of her nape.

Tentatively, he ran his fingertips across her back, from one shoulder blade to the other, testing the smoothness of her skin. She tensed. "Erm, sorry."

"No, Ron. That felt good."

Something about the way her breath caught as she said it made his own shoulders tense. He swallowed and placed his hands firmly. Rhythmically, he squeezed. "Is that enough pressure?" He questioned softly, leaning close to her ear.

"Mmhmm. Perfect. Ron, you have wonderful hands."

"Thanks, but I haven't really done this before." He moved his hands down to knead her back. "My mum used to give us back rubs when we were small, but that was a long time ago." He dropped his hands and turned her around so she was standing in his arms.

Their eyes met. Ron's pulse began to race. This was what he'd been planning for, right now, this moment. His gaze fell to Hermione's lips. He watched as her small pink tongue darted out, nervously, to wet them. He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving her lips, until he could taste her breath. "Hermione," he murmured as he leaned in to close the gap between their lips.

"DINNER!"

The door to Ginny's room flew open and Ron sprang away from Hermione. Fred glanced from Ron, who had turned beet red with embarrassment to Hermione who was smiling languidly and then back to Ron questioningly.

"O…ok. We'll be down in a second." Ron stuttered.

Fred chuckled knowingly as he exited the room, "Sure you will, Ronnikins."

"Sorry, 'Mione. We will. I swear."

"I know." She was running her fingertips across her lips, her lips which he had been just about to feel against his own. Damn Fred. "It's fine, Ron."

_**My hopes are so high, that your kiss might kill me.  
So won't you kill me, so I die happy?  
My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,  
Or wear as jewelry, which ever you prefer.**_

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, and subsequently his fabulous friends, well, none of it belongs to me. Lo siento. Also 'Hands Down,' that belongs to Dashboard Confessional.

Author's Note: I was thinking of writing the next part (yes, there will be a next part; the song's not over!) from Hermione's point of view (not first person, still third, just Hermione instead of Ron). What do you think?


	2. The Words Are Hushed

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to my reviewers(save a gizzle). You make my day!

_**The words are hushed lets not get busted, just lay entwined here, undiscovered**_

Hermione had lied. It wasn't fine. It was so much better than fine.

Ron had kissed her. Almost. His breath had smelled like the apples Mrs. Weasley had brought out to the boys at lunch.

Hermione wanted to touch him again, afraid that if they broke contact for too long, they'd slip back to how they'd been this morning, nervous and uncomfortable, as if they'd never been a couple, or even friends.

Suddenly she realized her hand was still at her lips. Ron was watching her intently. She reached out for his hand and began to pull him gently toward the stairs. This must have snapped him out of his daze because he quickly forced past her, and proceeded, dragging her vigorously down the stairs behind him.

"I'm starving! Hurry up, will you?" He called back at her. Fortunately for him she was simply to happy to point out that she had been the one pulling him only seconds ago.

Just as they were reaching the dining room, Hermione dropped his hand and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

He turned to look at her. "I wasn't kidding. I'm really hungry."

"Me too." She said softly, her eyes falling to his lips. She bit her lip and glanced up at him when she realized the implication of her words. He laughed, and tucked a silky brown flyaway behind her ear. A shiver rushed through her as his fingertips grazed her neck. She stepped closer to him, close enough that her breasts brushed his chest. He swallowed, visibly.

"We need to get into dinner or we'll never hear the end of it from Fred and George," Ron managed gruffly.

Neither Hermione nor Ron moved. "You forgot Ginny." His stomach rumbled, and Hermione couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. She turned to walk into the dining room, brushing him playfully as she past. "You're incorrigible. Or your stomach is at least."

To prevent herself from hanging all over him, Hermione chose the seat directly across from Ron.

Mr. Weasley, recently returned from the Ministry, grinned at Hermione. "Hello Hermione! Did you have a nice holiday?"

"Wonderful." She smiled back, "The weather's been so nice, it would have been hard to have a bad time."

"Perfect weather for quidditch," Ron put in.

Deciding that she still wasn't ready to forgive him for ignoring her all day, Hermione kicked him in the shins underneath the table. Ron winced, and then glared at her.

"You should have seen Ron up there today! It was brilliant," Fred said winking mischievously at Hermione.

"Yeah. I didn't know someone could be that bad. He was worse than his bloody usual,"

George added excitedly.

"Don't swear, George," Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Ignoring his mother, George launched into a story describing Ron's terrible keeping antics from that afternoon, but Hermione had stopped listening. Ron's foot was rubbing distractingly against hers. The movement tickled erotically. She tried not to look at him, focusing instead on her dinner.

Suddenly Mrs. Weasley dropped her fork onto her plate with a loud clatter gaining the attention of everyone at the table. "I almost forgot. Arthur, we have an Order meeting, and I told Albus we'd be there early, to help get things ready."

Mr. Weasley blinked, shocked, and then glanced quickly at the clock. "In that case we should've been there five minutes ago."

Mrs. Weasley had already risen from the table, and was beginning to grab her things. Mr. Weasley joined her and they both headed toward the fireplace. "Boys, you finish up here. But don't be late," Mrs. Weasley called over shoulder to the twins before stepping into the fire.

_**Safe from the earth and all the stupid questions... "Hey did you get some?" Man, that is so dumb.  
**_

"So did you finish unpacking, Hermione?" Fred looked at Hermione, then Ron.

"Yeah," Ron answered, cocking his head in warning at his brother.

"Certainly took you long enough to get down here for dinner," George said, straight-faced.

"We were catching up," Hermione defended, giving the twins her best stern face.

"Catching up?" Ginny teased, "I'll bet you and Ron had a lot you wanted _talk_ about. It'd been, what... about an hour since you last owled each other."

Hermione felt the annoying need to explain herself. "Owling isn't the same as seeing someone in person. I mean, when you actually..." She wasn't quite certain how to explain, so she paused, looking at her food in deep concentration.

"Oh we know what you mean." Fred assured her.

"You do?" She asked, excitedly, turning toward him only to realize he was making fun of her when his grin simply widened.

She looked across the table at Ron. His ears were burning again, but from anger, more than embarrassment now. He began to rise from the table, obviously preparing to pounce on Fred. Hermione kicked him under the table causing him to fall right back into his chair with a loud thump. "Ouch! That hurt, 'Mione!"

"Are you all right there, Ron?" Ginny asked, not bothering to suppress her laughter.

She turned to Hermione, "You're really bad at that aren't you?"

Hermione didn't understand Ginny's question. "What?"

"The point of playing footsie isn't to make the other person scream in pain, silly." Ginny explained, as if to a small child.

Hermione scrunched her face into what she hoped was a sneer. "Why don't we start cleaning up. Fred and George have to be at their meeting soon, and we wouldn't want to exclude them from the experience of washing dishes."

"Right you are, Hermione, right you are." George said.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously.

"No, we'd never miss an opportunity to spend time with the little lovebirds. They're so cute, I think Crookshanks is getting jealous."

The three boys rose and began to walk toward to the kitchen, dishes in hand. George murmured to Ron in feigned confidentiality, "Now, have you kissed her? Do you want some _brotherly _advice on the best ways?"

Hermione's heart soared, and for once, she didn't resent the twins intrusion. Perhaps this fraternal pressure was what Ron needed. She and Ginny moved towards the kitchen to better hear the conversation.

"That's none of your business, George. Or yours Fred." Hermione heard the sink turn and then off again a couple seconds later.

"Sure it is! We're your big brothers. It's our duty to make sure this kissing goes right for you!"

A loud clatter sounded, as if someone had carelessly dropped, or throw, several dishes into the sink on top of one another. "I DON"T CARE ABOUT YOUR DAMN DUTY! STAY OUT OF MY LOVE LIFE!"

"Calm down. We were only trying to help you get the right moves."

"Maybe I don't need the 'right moves.' I can get along fine. I know how to kiss. I'm not dumb."

"Alright then. These dishes are taken care of so we'd better be heading off," said Fred (maybe it was George).

"Ginny," George (or possibly Fred) called into the other room, "Make sure to leave Ron and Hermione alone. Ron is going to—"

"SHUT UP!" Ron shouted.

Hermione could hear the crackle of fire start up in the kitchen. Ron reentered the dining room. "I'm sorry about that, Hermione. They can be real jerks sometimes."

"I don't mind," She smiled at him, "They really aren't that bad, are they Ginny?" But Ginny was gone.

_**Stay quiet, stay near, stay close they can't hear, so we can get some  
**_

"I guess it's just you and me." Ron said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, I guess it is," Hermione returned, raising her eyebrows suggestively. She took a couple steps closer to Ron. "You sound like you think that's a bad thing."

He frowned, obviously still agitated by his brother's comments. "I'm sorry about my brothers, Hermione. I hope they didn't say anything to offend you."

"They were just kidding around. I know that." Hermione smiled. When Ron's countenance failed to brighten, she continued, "I really don't mind they're teasing. They do it because they love you. And me, I hope."

"Hermione, you usually _hate_ their teasing," Ron accused.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, looked directly into his eyes, and said, "You're right. Sometimes it bothers me. I mean, I don't have any sisters or brothers; I've had to learn how to deal with them. But I think I'm getting used to it. Tonight's teasing didn't bother mean at all."

"Really? Cause what they were saying tonight bothered me _more _than usual. They were talking like you were just some girl I had brought home to do stuff with."

"I _am_ your girlfriend."

"Yeah, but you're also so much more!" His eyes narrowed. "Wait, did you just agree with them?"

"I _am _your girlfriend..." She repeated.

"That's what this is all about! You're mad cause I haven't kissed you!"

"You're a genius!" Hermione's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"When was I supposed to kiss you? Tell me that." He demanded.

"I dunno... I've only been here for an entire day! But you've been off hiding from me. I don't know what to think. I keep thinking maybe you're scared. Or maybe you just don't want to kiss me after all. I don't know, Ron, I don't know.

"Did ever occur to you that I haven't kissed you for a reason other than that I'm scared, or that I don't want to? That maybe I haven't kissed you because I care so much about this, about us, that I have been planning on our first kiss being perfect? I really don't want to mess it up!"

"You won't have a chance to mess it up if you never do it!"

"You know what? You're right." He kissed her hard on the mouth.

Almost immediately, she pulled away. "If you didn't want to mess it up, then why did you do that?" She stormed out of the room, fighting tears. He was right. She wanted to take back every time she'd ever pressured him to kiss her. Not that it hadn't worked; he had kissed her.

But it wasn't supposed to have happened like that.

_**My hopes are so high, that your kiss might kill me.  
So won't you kill me, so I die happy?  
My heart is yours to fill or burst, to break or bury,  
Or wear as jewelry, which ever you prefer.  
**_


End file.
